


Have another drink, get lost in us

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Face-Fucking, Jukebox Prompt, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Prompt Fill, Sloppy Makeouts, wine drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: “You okay, David?” he asks carefully, and David looks a little glassily at him.“I’m so good, baby,” he says, very slowly, like he’s concentrating on every word.Or, the first time David gets wine drunk in front of Patrick.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 35
Kudos: 319





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samwhambam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/gifts).



> Once again, samwhambam coming in with the amazing prompts! This time, “the first time David gets wine drunk in front of Patrick”. Once again it’s unedited (apart from the fairly major timeline mistake a couple of folks pointed out in the discord, thank you! 💞), barely reread, and written on my phone, so apologies for what I’m sure is a multitude of errors.
> 
> Title is from Lorde.

If you’d asked him 24 hours ago, Patrick would have told you he’s seen David drunk. 

And it’s true. He’s watched David fall up the stairs after downing too much whiskey too quickly, has seen him stagger through the door after Stevie goaded him into “just one more” drink. He knows what David looks like drunk — all squinty and mumbling and a complete inability to coordinate those long limbs and snoring 1.5 seconds after his back hits the mattress. 

Or… he thought he knew. 

Wine-drunk David is a whole other story.

It’s their one-year anniversary, and David has allowed them to celebrate properly with only minimal grumbling about tempting fate. They go out to dinner in Elm Glen, to a restaurant where Patrick’s blazer isn’t actually considered jokingly overdressed, and they order a bottle of champagne to share. It’s mere days since “I love you” and they’re still in the flush of it, laughing and touching and playing footsie under the table, and the bottle is empty before they’ve finished their appetisers. 

“Another!” David says, delighted, when their server asks, and Patrick laughs at the look on his face, sparkle-eyed and grinning and a little flush. 

“I love you,” he says, because he can now, after choking it down for longer than he’ll ever admit to David. And David’s silly grin melts into a fond smile as he reaches out for Patrick’s hand, and then they’re just sitting there smiling dopily at each other until the server returns with an open bottle and their meals, interrupting the moment. 

Which is when Patrick realises. 

“Shit,” he says. “I’m driving. I can really only have one more glass of this.”

“Oh,” David says. “Well, um, do you mind if I… I mean, we shouldn’t let it go to waste, right? If it’s already open?”

“Go for it,” Patrick says airily. He doesn’t mind, and he also doesn’t think about it, because he’s seen David drink his body weight in polar bear shots — what could a bottle and a half of wine possibly do to him?

He learns the answer to that as soon as they stand up to leave. David staggers, blinks, and lets out what Patrick can only describe as a  _ giggle.  _

“You okay, David?” he asks carefully, and David looks a little glassily at him. 

“I’m  _ so _ good, baby,” he says, very slowly, like he’s concentrating on every word. Patrick decides not to point out that David just called him ‘baby’  _ in public. _ “Let’s go hoooooome.”

Patrick laughs. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” He maneuvers David out of the booth and through the doors, gasping when the shock of the night air hits his lungs. David doesn’t seem to notice it, leaning into Patrick’s side and pressing his face into Patrick’s neck. 

He manhandles David into the car before sliding into the driver’s seat. When he glances over David hasn’t moved, so after a second’s hesitation he leans over to fasten his seatbelt. He’s just heard the click when he feels a tongue drag up along the outside of his neck. 

“Fuck, David!” he jerks away in surprise, smacking his head on the roof of the car. David is immediately all wide-eyed concern, his hands stroking Patrick’s face and hair.

“Are you okay?” he gasps, and Patrick has to laugh at the overdramatic reaction. 

“I’m fine, David,” he says. “Let’s get you home, hmm?”

“Yeah,” David mumbles. “Take me home.”

They’re about halfway back to Schitt’s Creek when Patrick feels the hand on his knee. He smiles over at David before double taking when he sees the look in his eyes — not the usual comfortable affection of them driving together, but something far hungrier. 

“David…” he starts. 

“Mm, I like it when you say my name,” David says, low in his throat, his hand creeping up Patrick’s inseam. And, well, Patrick can’t help it if he’s hardwired to have a certain reaction to that timbre. He swallows thickly, somehow finding the self-control to clamp his hand down on top of David’s just before it reaches its intended target. 

“You _have_ to wait until we get home, David,” he says, voice strangled. David pouts, but moves his hand back to safer territory. 

“I love it when you boss me around,” he says, and Patrick grins because David has made that  _ very _ clear. “And I love you.”

Patrick’s breath catches at that. It’s not the first time David’s said it in the last few days, or even the fifth — but it is the first time without Patrick saying it first. 

“I love you, David,” he says softly, squeezing his hand. 

Somehow, they get back to Patrick’s without any sex-related incidents. As soon as they’re inside the door David is all over him, moaning loudly, and Patrick sends up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that Ray is out of town tonight. 

His body reacts to David’s touch as it always does, but his brain is holding back. David is, objectively, still a bit out of it, and he’s not sure if having sex with him right now is… okay. He voices as much to David, who chuckles against his neck before pulling him away from the door and into the kitchen. Patrick watches while he rummages in the fridge for a moment before slamming it shut again, holding up a bottle of Reisling in triumph. 

“So catch up,” David says simply. Patrick just stares at him, unsure, until David presses him into the fridge door, magnets pressing uncomfortably into his back until he can no longer feel them, too distracted by David’s wandering free hand and tongue. “Catch up with me, Patrick.”

Patrick takes the bottle. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had absolutely no intention of writing a second chapter for this, but then samwhambam had to go and prompt "the first time David and Patrick get drunk together" and, well, I was already halfway there, right?
> 
> You'll note both the rating and the tags have been updated ;)

Fifteen minutes later, Patrick is feeling floaty. 

He’d tried to grab a glass but David had slammed the cupboard shut, laughing, before pressing the rim of the wine bottle against Patrick’s lips. So here he is, sitting on the floor of Ray’s kitchen, feeling like a teenager hiding under the bleachers as he drinks Reisling straight from the bottle while David sucks wet and messy just under his jaw. It’s going to leave a mark tomorrow, but Patrick is feeling too heady and relaxed and  _ wanted _ to care. His free hand is fisted in David’s sweater, alternating between pulling him closer and just sort of pawing at him, and David hasn’t uttered one word about the fabric getting stretched.

The thing is, Patrick doesn’t really get drunk. He drinks, sure, but rarely enough to feel like this — he leaves that to David, on his evenings with Stevie or when he inexplicably decides to drink whiskey at the speed and volume Patrick is drinking beer. It’s not that he has any sort of moral objection, it’s just that he likes to stay in control. But the truth is, he hasn’t felt truly, one hundred percent in control since he met David Rose.

_ Catch up with me, Patrick. _ Isn’t that what he’s been trying to do for a year now?

He takes another long swig, the bottle alarmingly light when he pulls his hand away. David breaks away from his neck only to reattach himself firmly to Patrick’s lips, licking sloppily into his mouth as if they could share. Patrick pulls away to take another drink, emptying the last of the bottle into his mouth; instead of swallowing he leans back in to kiss David again, pushing some of the wine into David’s mouth with his tongue. It’s sloppy and sticky and most of it spills out between them and Patrick worries about the sweater but then David is wrestling them both down to the ground, his hands making quick work of his fly even as he licks up the mess from Patrick’s chin. 

There’s no teasing, no preamble; as soon as David manages to free his cock he swallows it down right to the base, his nose lightly brushing along Patrick’s stomach. It’s hot and wet and tight suction and  _ David, _ and Patrick’s head is spinning from the combination of alcohol and pure unadulterated lust; without thinking he thrusts up sharply, eliciting a small choking sound from David.

“Shit,” he mumbles, propping himself up in his elbows to apologise, but David’s eyelids have fluttered shut and he’s shoved a hand haphazardly into his pants. There’s a flush on his neck that only appears when he’s really, crazily turned on and Patrick pushes up again, watching David gag before pulling off to grin a little lazily at him.

“Fuck my face, honey, I love it when you’re out of control like this, come on.” And then he takes Patrick in his mouth again, only about halfway down, before holding himself still. His hand certainly moves though, jerking himself off as he moans theatrically around Patrick’s dick.

Patrick can’t stand it, the lack of stimulation while he watches the show David’s putting on making him feel a little crazed. He slides his hands into David’s hair and thrusts up once again, with more force behind it this time, and David lets out a choked little whimper that just breaks something in him. He lets his head fall back onto the floor with a thunk, blindly pulling David up and down his cock by the hair even as he fucks wildly up into him. 

He knows when David comes by the way his throat spasms around him, muffling a grunt. With what feels like a Herculean effort he pulls himself to a sitting position, removing one hand from David’s head to roughly yank his hand up from where he’s removed it from his trousers and sucking three fingers into his mouth at once, licking the taste of his come from them. David’s eyes are almost rolling into the back of his head trying to watch this display and the combination of the mouth around his cock and the fingers in his mouth and the almost feral look on David’s face has him coming with a long and very loud yell just a few moments later.

David’s head flops forward onto Patrick’s lap as Patrick slumps back against the cool tile. Patrick’s head is spinning faster than ever and his limbs feel alarmingly heavy, but after a moment David is pulling him to his feet with what looks like no effort whatsoever. As soon as he’s upright he forgets how gravity works, slumping forward against David’s broad chest.

“Bed,” he mumbles sleepily, and he feels rather than hears David chuckle.

“We have to make it up the stairs first, honey.”

“Can’t,” Patrick whines, but somehow they do, pushing and pulling each other until they’re in Patrick’s bedroom. Patrick immediately reaches for David’s sweater and David lets him, stripping the rest off quickly before coming back to help Patrick with the buttons that have apparently shifted in both size and shape since he got dressed earlier.

Patrick closes his eyes for a second, just for a second, but then somehow he’s in bed in just his boxer briefs with David curled up behind him pressing soft kisses into his shoulder. He thinks he might hear a mumbled “Love you,” but he also might have dreamed it, because he’s pretty sure he’s already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


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